


Confessions

by A_Random_NPC



Series: Love and Honor [4]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Random_NPC/pseuds/A_Random_NPC
Summary: Tannette Warden, her faithful hippogryph Arminius, and Rupurt Davenport have begun their trek to Stormsong Valley from Boralus. If their partnership is to work, Tannette must come clean about herself and her past.
Series: Love and Honor [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168667
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Confessions

Tannette watched her new companion nervously from where she sat across the fire from him. She toyed with one of Arminius's feathers until he snapped irritably at her, her antics waking him from his dozy state. She soothed him with an apology and a few scratches at the base of his horns, which he accepted by ruffling his feathers and settling back into his rest with a crooning trill. Still patting his giant head, she smiled down at him, wishing she could feel as much at ease with their new situation as he did. The presence of the giant man that had been foisted off on her as a guide in this new, strange land rankled her pride. The thunk of another log being thrown on their fire drew her attention back to him, the thorn in her side she had to endure for the next three months.

At least he's competent and not just handsome, she thought resentfully. Even in the firelight, she could see the kind demeanor he had displayed all day as they made their way out of Boralus. He had threaded through the crowds of the city by politely excusing himself, smiling, and gently nudging people aside. With how large he was, he could have just muscled his way through instead of deftly handling the traffic. She had resigned herself to his companionship when she saw that Arminius had taken to him immediately. As dopey and friendly as her hippogryph could be, he was an excellent judge of character. Mere moments after she had introduced the two, the hippogryph had begun twining his way around the Kul Tiran like a giant cat, cheerfully trilling his excitement at making a few friend. She had quietly watched, adding the small packages Alexi had handed her at their meeting into his saddlebags, as the man had solidified his place in Arminius's heart by discovering his favorite places to be scratched and petted. He had even held him steady so she could load him down with their packs before leading them out of the city and into the countryside. During their trek out she had answered his questions in her brisk manner, keeping an eye out for resources and trouble as she did so. Normally, folks would fall silent after a few of her terse responses, but not him. Not this confounding man.

"If we aren't delayed by weather or any mishaps, we'll be across Highland Pass and into Stormsong Valley within two days." His rumbling growl of a voice broke through her introspection, making her blush when she realized she had been openly staring at him the whole time. Though he used one of his large hands to cover his mouth, she could see the crinkles at the corners of his grey eyes, showing he was grinning. His face was adorned with some of the most magnificent mutton chops and a mustache she had ever seen in a man. Normally, she disliked facial hair on men, but his added character. "Tiragarde Sound isn't without its dangers, but this area is fairly well guarded against anything uncanny."

"Indeed," she said, her tone noncommittal. She glanced around at their camp site, a small alcove of pine trees that hid them away from the main road. He had led them unerringly there, lifting branches carefully with his magics and replacing them once they had passed. She had watched with approval as he had helped her set up camp, delighted to find he was as well versed in living rough as she was despite her earlier misgivings. A small foray into the forest had yielded several rabbits for their dinner, as well as a few wild vegetables and herbs the druid had identified as being edible. All in all, a decent partner, just as her brother had told her. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, slightly resentful and yet somehow relieved that they had been right. As she watched the druid, he busied himself with pouring a small jack of ale from a small pony keg that sat next to him on the rock he used as his perch. It had been more carefully stored in his gear than anything else while they traveled out of Boralus. She had briefly wondered if she had been saddled with a drunk, but he stowed it away near his pack after offering to pour her a drink. The flagon was small in comparison to his hand, and the keg itself only held, at most, two gallons. It would take a lot more than the thimbleful of ale he had poured for himself to get drunk, she thought. He sat back down with a groan and sipped his brew, watching her as closely as she watched him. When her eyes landed on his flagon, he grinned and said,

"Just a wee bit of a treat for myself, lass, don't fret. It isn't often I get into Boralus and can sample brews from other lands. The Alliance reopening relations with Kul Tiras is going to do wonders for brewers like myself."

"How so?" She bit her lip, frustrated with her curiosity, but he brightened considerably at her question. He ran a careless hand through his hair, mussing it. She shifted, leaning against Arminius, who grunted and rustled his wings slightly. He had a certain rustic charm to him that she recognized. Her uncle carried himself in such a manner. Idly, she wondered if it was a universal trait shared by all druids, but dismissed it.

"Well, Miss Warden, it comes down to ingredients, you see. We Kul Tirans pride ourselves in being mostly self sufficient, but there's strains of grain and hops that haven't taken too well to our climate and soil here. Sure, water's never an issue with the glacial runoff we get from the mountains, but the other ingredients are what give the alcohol its flavor." He sipped his brew, sighing with happiness at its taste. He tipped the tankard towards her. "Take this rhapsody malt, for example. This isn't something we get here often. It's a fairly weak beer, but it lives up to the name. The hops they use to make it are grown in the Eastern Kingdoms, and I haven't been able to get mine to grow well enough here to replicate this same flavor. I suspect it has something to do with the soil in Stormsong being too different from that of the Eastern Kingdoms, but I haven't been able to get a hold of any soil from there to test the theory."

"I thought my brother said you were a tavern keep?" She leaned forward, hugging her knees to her chest. She winced as she felt a ring of mail pinch her skin through her shirt, and eased it slightly. "You seem to know an awful lot about brews for a man who merely sells beer." He chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah, lass, not just a tavern keep. I wouldn't be much of a barkeep if I didn't know much about the brews I'm selling. I brew as well as sell." She watched with interest as a dark cloud seemed to fall across his otherwise jovial face. He scratched his cheek, his eyes lowering to the ground. Tannette frowned, but saw an opportunity.

"Surely a man of your many talents could find work as a guide if you've a brewing operation back in the Valley," she said casually. "There are several groups of Pandaren and dwarves who would be thrilled to swap trade secrets with a fellow brew master, and pay handsomely for ingredients. Why not take advantage of the situation?" He sipped his drink, his grey eyes now watching her, his face impassive. He knows what I'm doing, she thought to herself, trying to remain indifferent. Alexi and Ryland must have warned him I'd try to be rid of him. He sighed heavily, giving her a rueful look.

"Miss Warden, I've signed a contract same as you. Going back on it would result in a loss of credibility with our new allies and would irrevocably damage my reputation. I was approached as a guide because of several factors." He raised one large hand, the pock mark scar on it showing dimly in the firelight. "One, I know Stormsong Valley. Every inch of the land is known to me, because of the second reason. I'm a Thornspeaker, a druid. There's something wrong in the heartland, and nature itself is driving me to find out what it is. I cannot do that if I'm stationary, right?" She reluctantly nodded. It was hard to ignore a calling from a higher power. "Three, there isn't a tavern there anymore." He lowered his hand, his face sad.

"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow at him, curious. "And why is that?" He was silent for a long moment, staring at the fire.

"There's no shortage of work to be done in the Valley, Miss Warden," his voice was quiet when he finally began to speak. "The Briarback have been advancing of late from the kraul in the south. Seems they want to add a few acres to their lands, putting the farmsteads there at risk. Something odd is going on in the northern part of the Valley, where we'll be. Something there is making the locals feel uneasy, and the shipyards have largely fallen silent. Brennadam..." He paused, swirling the remaining ale in his flagon around several times, watching it. "Brennadam was demolished by the Horde, not a week past. Had they passed it by, I may not be sitting with you here, Miss Warden." She felt a hint of anger rising in her chest.

"I take it the Horde did not pass your place by," she growled.

"The Bee and Barrel." He replied sadly. "It and my stocks were destroyed in the attack. That's the main reason why I am offering my services as a guide. Raising enough money to rebuild is my only goal now. Losing my home, my place of business, was nothing compared to the horror of the attack, though. The loss of life was... Catastrophic."

"The Horde are a bunch of vicious savages that deserve to be put down," she hissed, her anger at their actions showing in her voice. She felt her feral side uncoiling in her chest, ready to leap free. "They care nothing about those they harm, and only for bloodshed and destruction." She could see the surprise on his face at her words.

"Now, I don't think it's as simple as that-" he began, but she cut him off with a sharp laugh.

"Your ignorance is amusing," she said bitterly, "But hardly surprising. I've watched two of my homes be destroyed by the Horde." She felt the tendrils of the Curse wrapping around her. Her fists were clenched in her lap, her nails cutting deep into her palm. The pain in her hands were eclipsed only by the pain in her heart. "The Horde is good for nothing but taking orders from the Banshee Bitch and destroying as many innocent lives as possible. There is no good in the Horde."

"Huh," he said, scratching his chin, his fingers rasping against the stubble there. "Seems to be it takes all kinds to make up a people, despite the decisions their leadership may make. And I'm not as ignorant as you may think. Up until five years ago I was on board a merchant vessel that made runs between Kalimdor, Kul Tiras, and the Eastern Kingdoms. I've seen my fair share of what goes on in the world. Neither the Horde nor the Alliance are bastions of good and righteousness."

"My apologies for the insult, then." Tannette winced inwardly, though he had delivered the words kindly. She squelched the anger and resentment inside of her with difficulty. She idly touched the piece of azerite that hung about her neck, drawing on it to further calm herself. "But the point remains. The Horde destroys more than it builds, and they have murdered more innocents than anyone in the history of the Alliance ever have."

He did not respond to that, merely leaning over to feed another log into the fire. They sat in uncomfortable silence for several long moments listening the an owl hoot in the distance before he said quietly,

"As I said, Miss Warden. We'll be in Stormsong in two days, and you'll be able to help clean up the mess. Lots of folks need assistance in more ways than one. There's rumors of something odd going on near Sagehold as well."

"And would you be one of those who require assistance, then?" She asked, quickly latching on to the new subject. Something about his silence made her uneasy, as if he found her words to be disappointing. The man put her off balance, she realized, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill of the night. "Considering your tavern was wrecked, that is."

“No, not me. There’s other folks who need their homes rebuilt more than I, especially those with children and elderly they care for. Lots of littles need homes right now, so they’re the priority. No,” he said with a smile that made her heart skip a beat, “My little tavern and bachelor quarters aren’t high on the list of things that need to be restored. Not by a long shot.”

“I see,” she said, trying to cover her embarrassment at being happy he was a bachelor. “Is that what you’re doing, then? Adventuring until your home gets rebuilt?”

“Adventuring to make enough gold to rebuild it myself without relying on charity that could better be used to serve others,” he corrected. She raised an eyebrow at that, but he merely shrugged, shifting where he sat as removed his great coat, revealing heavily muscled arms. Tannette tried not to stare as he neatly folded the coat and drew a heavy cable knit sweater from his pack, layering it over his shirt. She coughed to hide the fact she blushed, rubbing her other hand over Arminius's wing. He chirruped sleepily at her, clacking his beak with contentment. She smiled down at the drowsing hippogryph, gently pulling a loose feather from his wing and tucking it behind her ear.

“You are an exceptional man, Mr. Davenport,” she replied with feeling. “Not many others would shy away from accepting assistance like that.”

“There’s enough greed in the world without me adding to it, Miss Warden.” His voice deepened suddenly, and she wondered why. But it soon brightened as he added, “But, if all else fails, I’ll go back to living with my fathers and family at the apiary. They’re always in need of assistance with the bees. Though a man of my age really shouldn’t be living with his parents, now should he?” He gave her a wink, encouraging her to share the joke. She chuckled and shook her head. Despite her earlier misgivings, she was finding him to be a delightful companion.

He was just too damn likable, she thought. I want to trust him, but…

“Mr. Davenport, what do you know about Gilneans?” She heard herself asking suddenly. The instant the words colored the air, she regretted them, but knew this conversation needed to be had sooner rather than later. Alexi had growled at her enough earlier in the day to tell him, despite her protests. 

"You'll need to tell him," her brother-in-law had told her as he passed packages of healing tonics and herbs upon her. "You could find yourself in a fight having to protect yourself from not only the enemy but him if you don't give him sufficient warning."

"Why couldn't you have told him?" She had growled back, "Considering you three seem to be such great friends, why not tell him yourself?"

"Because we aren't the ones that will be living with him for the next three months, my dear. Honesty and communication are the keys to any successful relationship, Tannette. Don't forget." Alexi had kissed her forehead before moving off to duck under Ryland's waiting arm. She had been stewing on that piece of advice the entire day, debating on when to tell Rupurt of her affliction. Now, it was too late to turn back.

“I know that most of them are refugees, victims of war, Cataclysm, and the worgen curse,” his voice was speculative as he considered the question. He reached up and mussed his hair again, making her want to slap his hand away and fix it herself. “Many ended up living on Teldrassil, according to druids I’ve met. Kul Tirans are just Gilneans who were called by the ocean, so we share common ancestors. Can’t say I’ve found our cultures to be too different, all told.”

“But the worgen, what do you know of them?” Nerves made her voice sharp, but he answered readily enough.

“The curse can’t be broken, only managed, it doesn’t pass to offspring, only those who were bitten by a feral, and that the worgen mingling with the Alliance are in balance with the human and wolf sides of their nature. I am, after all, a druid, Miss Warden. Information is spread by more than just word of mouth where druids are concerned.”

“Ah, of course.” He waited patiently for her to continue. He hadn’t sipped his beer in a while, she noticed wryly, but had devoted his full attention to her and their conversation. Again, she felt the uneasy pull of wanting to trust him. For once in her life, she felt ashamed and embarrassed at being a worgen, after years of being proud of who she was. Somehow, rejection from him would hurt worse than anyone else, though their association had been brief. She fell silent a moment, listening to the crackle of the fire and the wind as it shushed its way through the pines around them. A cricket chirped somewhere behind him as she slowly continued. “Mr. Davenport, if we are to continue this partnership, there are facts about me that you must be made privy to.” With a deep breath, she concentrated, opening her heart and mind to the wilder side of her nature, welcoming the rage held in check by the balance she had gained so long ago in the heart of the Black Forest. She felt the familiar sting of the change as her body warped and twisted into her worgen form. With a growl, she opened her eyes, her body now in its more primal form, and said gruffly, 

“I won’t blame you if you want to run.”

He regarded her quietly, his eyes not leaving hers. She knew what he saw; a wolfish monster with a tan pelt spotted with creamy white fur. A heart shaped marking on her forehead between her eyes, and a long muzzle more cream than brown. A pair of large green eyes, more human than wolf. The claws and teeth of a predator. Her heart screamed for him to say something, though she outwardly remained cooly aloof. With a sigh, he looked down at his mug of beer, as if considering the information she had given him. She trembled, fearing the rejection that was sure to come at any second, the emotion giving an edge to her senses so when he suddenly shifted, she heard an audible crackling like the sound of a bundle of twigs being snapped. She stared with shock as, across the fire, the giant skull of a bear opened its maw at her in a flash of green smoke, and mildly sipped from the now tiny tankard held in one wicker claw. She had known he was a druid, but his bear form was unlike anything she had ever seen before. He was twice, possibly three times larger than her in her worgen form, and she was no small creature when transformed. Bone white hide and bleached out leaves and twigs dotted his form while massive spikes rose along his spine. The bear skull regarded her with gentle amusement as she stared at a loss for words.

They stared at each other for a long moment, the worgen and wicker bear. The surprise of it caused her to shift back to her human self, the black smoke of the curse dissipating into the night. With that same sound of branches being broken, he shifted back to the kindly looking man that she had hired earlier that day to guide her to parts unknown.

“If we’re being honest, Miss Tannette,” he said with a grin as he pulled a few twigs and leaves from his hair, “I know a thing or two about having a second nature that’s hard to control.”

She stared at him at a loss for words, until his grin became a laugh. She couldn’t help herself, and laughed with him until Arminius squwaked at both of them, irritated once again at being woken by two noisy humans.

**Author's Note:**

> For a look at what Rupurt's spooky bear form looks like, please go check out the commissioned art @vaethryn created for me for him!  
> https://twitter.com/vaethryn/status/1185966112392892416
> 
> For Tannette's worgen form, please take a peek at the commissioned art @kuden_art created of her worgen form here:  
> https://twitter.com/A_Random_NPC/status/1231111284042715139
> 
> Both images belong to myself and the artists that created them. They may not be used, edited, or otherwise utilized by anyone but the artists and myself, the commissioner.


End file.
